


the scenic route

by zauberer_sirin



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Daisy and her issues with sex, Daisy is a movie geek, Established Relationship, F/M, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, I play fast and loose with the geography of Los Angeles I'm sorry, Implied/Referenced Brainwashing, Older Man/Younger Woman, Romance, Skye | Daisy Johnson-centric, skoulsonfest2k16redux
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-27
Updated: 2016-07-27
Packaged: 2018-07-27 04:16:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7603075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zauberer_sirin/pseuds/zauberer_sirin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daisy wants to take something back.</p>
<p>Skoulson RomFest 2k16 Redux - Day 3: Daisy’s van</p>
            </blockquote>





	the scenic route

She drives him to the hills.

She thinks it’s fitting, considering that’s where she met Hive after… she wants to rewrite it, even though she doesn’t admit it to herself just yet. This was her spot, her secret place. When she was lonely and afraid this place gave her comfort. She wants all those things back.

“It’s cooler here,” Coulson says, having been grumpy all day because of a heatwave and because he has been in SHIELD related meetings all day, playing nice now that he is no longer Director. Now they are sitting on the back of her old van, door open, and with their legs hanging out, enjoying the light breeze.

“That’s a good thing when you’re all sweaty but don’t have easy access to a shower,” she says, reminding him that she was homeless when she lived here.

He slips one hand under her top, stroking her back.

“We have a nice shower back at the hotel,” he says, tempting but with a hint of hesitation in his voice.

They still haven’t been together like that, because for the first time in history Daisy doesn’t want to be impulsive with a guy, because Coulson is not _a guy_ , because a lot has happened to them lately, because she is still getting used to being able to show her face in public without risking arrest, because she is still figuring out a way to tell Coulson how she feels about him.

But she doesn’t feel anxious about it. It feels good to be in this no man´s land of makeouts and hugs and resting her head on his shoulder when they sit together. She doesn’t feel like he is going to go away if she doesn’t _give_ him something.

Coulson drops his hand promptly.

“It’s a nice view,” he comments, looking down at the city.

“It’s pretty cool. You can see a lot of movie locations from here,” she tells him. “Like that house there? Damn, you can’t see it properly, by the Observatory? They used it for _L.A. Confidential_.”

Coulson looks at her with an amused glance. He totally thinks she’s a geek, doesn’t he.

“You really like movies,” he says, slipping his arm around her shoulders.

She blushes a bit, like it’s some dirty secret. “Well, yeah.”

Coulson chuckles softly and the truth is she is not used to hearing that sound, not yet. He sounds a bit nervous, being here, so Daisy scoots over and presses herself against his side.

Then she thinks about standing right here with Hive, feeling their new connection so intensely, and the way they embraced and how Hive put Grant Ward’s arms around her.

Daisy doesn’t want this place to about that, about him.

This used to be _her_ place.

She takes Coulson’s face in her hands and kisses him, turning so that she can slide her leg over his knee. He moves back on the van, holding her up and against him with one hand on her hip. It has the familiar patient feel their previous kissing session, Coulson clearly not expecting more. That kind of bothers Daisy for a moment, she can surprise him if she wants to; she clasps her hand around his nape and deepens the kiss. She can tell Coulson really likes it, licking at the roof of her mouth when she gives him access, that the whole being patient and taking it slow deal was not because of lack of interest (because Daisy _wondered_ , because he’s older, because she only has a few messy romances in her past, because she is and Inhuman, dangerous and the fact that she could crush his bones with her powers can’t be exactly a turn on for him).

She drops her right hand to his groin, trying to stroke him through his jeans.

Coulson breaks the kiss with a soft moan.

“Daisy, what are you doing?”

“We shouldn’t waste such a nice view…” she tells him, chasing his mouth again.

He grabs her by the shoulder and gently makes her look at him.

“Are you sure?” he asks.

She nods. She tries not to equate his carefulness to him not wanting her. That’s the usual trick her mind plays on her. Anything is a sign that someone doesn’t want her. Coulson wants her. He loves her. He’s told her. He’s shown her for four years. His reticence is just more proof. He wouldn’t want her to rush. That’s new. Daisy loves that about him. 

He is the one who can make this view from the hills hers again.

“Come on, the back of my van,” she says, suggestively raising an eyebrow. “Let’s live a little.”

Coulson still looks doubtful. He is a romantic and she is probably ruining his fantasies of a first time for them. He said nothing, but maybe the hotel back downtown had something to do with it.

But she can’t help it, she doesn’t want to give this place up to Hive, after she gave him so much of herself.

She kisses Coulson again and he eventually relaxes into her touch. It’s too new, just yet. They’ve done stuff (the way _stuff_ sounds in her mind is pretty juvenile, but not in a bad way), they have made out in their office a couple of times, and when they left the suitcases back at the hotel, and on the plane, but there was never any intention of escalating things just yet. Daisy wonders if Coulson always takes it so slow or if it’s just her.

She lies on the floor of the van

Coulson helps her with her pants and she thinks it’s weird to be doing this here (even weirder than to be doing this _with Coulson, Agent Coulson of all people_? she doesn’t quite know) and she’s only been with Miles here and for a moment Daisy feels bad about it, like she’s cheating on him. Coulson wraps one warm hand around her ankle for a moment and that feeling passes.

He kisses the inside of her thigh and Daisy can see where he is going with this. She touches his hair until he lifts his gaze to her.

“You mind? Not doing that? Right now?”

She can hardly believe she just told Coulson not to go down on her. She’s not sure why, she doesn’t feel it’s the time for it.

His expression softens.

“No problem.”

But he’s probably disappointed, and she’s probably crushed some elaborate dream of fancy dinners and expensive hotel suites and champagne and romance by being selfish.

Coulson doesn’t look _crushed_ , and Daisy knows he won’t stop loving her for being a bit selfish, anyway. For needing things. That’s why she brought him here, to this very spot.

“Come here,” she says, grabbing a hanfdful of his short hand between her fingertips.

He slides up her body and kisses her some more. It’s sweet, it’s terribly sweet, the way he asks in a soft, thoughtful voice if they need to worry about protection.

“I’ve had fantasies about this,” he says, dropping kisses to her neck while he pushes his jeans and underwear down his hips.

“This?”

“I didn’t mean to, i knew it was wrong,” he says, half-smirking. “Back when we first met. A beautiful woman in a van. I thought about what might happen in that van…”

She is not sure if that’s the truth or he is telling her a story to arouse her; either way it’s working and she is wet and when the moment comes it’s easier than she suspected or feared. When he moves into her it feels good, which is not a feeling Daisy usually associates with first times, she’s always distrustful of them - perhaps you have to spend four years falling in love with someone first, Daisy thinks and the thought sends a wave of fondness for Coulson, for all the things she knows about him and how this is just one more, not the most important one even, it’s just that now she knows how it feels to have him inside her, and she likes knowing new things about him.

Daisy wraps her legs around his waist and he moans again, louder than before, and she touches their noses together.

And it just… it goes well. And she feels closer to Coulson than before, which wasn’t entirely the point (it’s not like that for Daisy, usually, sex is not about closeness) but she is glad it’s the point that matters to her now.

And then at some point she turns her head for a moment and the sight of once-familiar trees distracts her.

And there, that’s the spot where she told Hive about changing her name.

“Daisy?” Coulson’s voice comes, as if reading her thoughts, or rather piercing through them.

She looks up at him. He’s stopped moving and is looking at her with a growing frown of worry because she went somewhere else in her head.

“Sorry,” she says. “I’m with you, I’m with you.”

He gives her a questioning look. Daisy touches her fingers to his forehead.

“I’m with you,” she repeats and he starts moving again, slowly pushing in and pulling out. She feels his carefulness like it’s a second heartbeat, and they are both too aware of it being a first time, too aware of the baggage between them - not bad baggage, the opposite, which is even more overwhelming, because Daisy has never had sex with someone she had loved for years, in one capacity or another. She guesses it’s the same for Coulson.

When he picks up the rhythm she can feel it, the connection she was looking for. That word. The same thing Hive wanted. But his connection to her engulfed every cell of her body. Now she can choose how far it spreads. She gives herself but not because she has to. And maybe she doesn’t give herself _enough_ , but it’s better than too much.

“Please, don’t stop,” she asks Coulson, closing her mouth around the pulsepoint on his throat.

Coulson slides his hand between their bodies, stroking her clit, making her come before him.

When it’s over the break of their connection is not painful, it’s not a tragedy, because he’s still here, breathing heavily and happily against Daisy’s cheek, human and vulnerable and unknowable, and holding her hand. There will be other moments.

He drops besides her and throws one arm around her waist, holding her loosely but _holding her_.

“I love you,” Daisy says, turning her head, and Coulson looks shocked. He probably knows her too well, knows that it’s a struggle for her to say it. “This is where I met Hive… after he turned me.”

“I didn’t know that. You didn’t tell me.”

He would have every right to feel used.

“No, I didn’t tell you, and I’m sorry. I should have. I just wanted to…”

“Take back this place from him?” Coulson finishes.

It’s her turn to look shocked. Sometimes he scares her. 

Then she remembers what is scary about it: he gets it. They are similar. The way he always looks encouraged when Daisy touches his prosthetic with an intimate touch, as if her caress could make him be more whole again. Of course he would get this. 

He strokes her hair. “So that’s what this was about.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Coulson tells her. His eyes look really soft and light so close. “It makes me really happy that I could help. Help you take something back.”

And the worst part is he means it. That’s the best part, too.

She turns on her side and holds him back, burying her face on his chest. Just for a few minutes. Her back to the hills. It’s nice. She feels a bit hot and sex-sticky with her jeans around her ankles but it’s not uncomfortable just yet. She closes her eyes and almost dozes off to the feeling of Coulson’s heart under her cheek. For all the time she slept on this same spot, she’s always slept alone until now.

Daisy is not sure how long they stay like this, but when she is ready to sit up the sun is going low, the hills are getting orange-ish and the view is getting a bit more glamorous.

“You know, that shower and that hotel room is sounding really nice right now,” she tells Coulson. “I’m too old to have sex in a van.”

“ _You_ are too old?” Coulson teases.

He follows her lead, sitting up as well.

Daisy squeezes his left hand.

“Come on, I’ll drive us by the scenic route. We can see the house where Carpenter shot part of _They Live_ ,” she tells him, pulling up her jeans.

He chuckles.

“Fine,” he says. “That sounds nice.”


End file.
